Oh, To Be Three

I awakened yesterday impatient to get to the Farmer's Market. I had heard that there would be sweet corn for those who arrived early. I laid in bed daydreaming- it would be our first taste of it for the year. Not knowing what time it was, I fretted that people might be there right now, buying it up! When Jon finally came to, the first thing I said to him was, "We have to get to the market!" followed by, "What time is it?" It was 7:11. Since the market doesn't officially open until 8, I thought we had a chance. Jon suggested we skip breakfast. I had the kids dressed before we even left the bed. Jon pocketed his wallet where we had stashed all household cash the night before. Even with Zephyr insisting we all drink some chai tea first, we were on our way in about 20 minutes.

Down the street, I realized we had forgotten water. "We can do that thing you told me about," Zephyr calmly suggested. "What thing?" I wondered. "Not you. Him." Zephyr indicated Dada. "Oh. You mean we can dig a hole, put a jar in the center, cover it with plastic, weight it with a rock and catch the water that evaporates, buddy?" Jon prompted. I couldn't figure out what was more amusing- that Jon has been teaching Zephyr Wilderness Survival 101, or that, to Zephyr, it seemed perfectly reasonable to construct a water still if you forgot to bring your thermos to the market one morning.

I have often wished I could have the mind of three-year-old for a day, or at least a few hours. To believe everything is possible, no cumbersome reality checks to stand in the way. One evening, I asked Zephyr to go put his shirt in his hamper. He headed towards the hallway, but slowed and stopped before he got there, suspiciously eying our ajar closet door. I pressed him to explain the delay, but he was mesmorized by what he saw, and eventually stammered out, "What's in there, Mommy?" I encouraged him to look for himself, but he was stubbornly hesitant. It had been a long day, so I'm sure it was with a sigh that I got up to help investigate. Some shiny gold coins on my bellydancing skirt ended up being the items in question. "I thought it was an alligator," he shrugged, finally leaving the room to accomplish his task.

A few weeks ago, Jon came in from getting our rooftop swamp cooler ready for the season. "I saw the guy next door doing the same thing," I told him. Zephyr went running to the window, excitedly yelling, "I want to see the dinosaur! I want to see the dinosaur!" You know your imagination is rusty when it takes a few moments to even recognize that "guy next door" sounds enough like "dinosaur" to leave room for doubt.

Some Saturday mornings Lowe's has a Build and Grow program, where they distribute kits for making simple wooden projects with kids. One day we made a bug box. Zephyr immediately found five roly polys in the yard to populate it, along with some grass to keep them comfortable. He studied the box a few hours later. "Mommy, why...?" Shook it a little, studied the box again. "Mommy...I guess she must be sleeping." Long pause. "With her legs up in the air." "Honey, maybe we should go let the roly polys back outside." "Okay," he agreed, "but not until this one wakes up."

For Zephyr's birthday, our friends Carrie and Char gave him a wonderful Playmobil pirate raft. It was an extra special gift, for it was one of the same toys Zephyr played with at their house while Jubilee was being born. Respecting our peaceful parenting practices, Carrie slipped out the pirate's sword and gun, discreetly handing them to Jon upon arrival. Zephyr enjoys playing with the toy very much, narrating countless stories for the pirate, octopus, and fish skeletons. That first night we asked, "Did the pirate have fish for dinner?" "Why would he eat his pets?" Zephyr asked.

Zephyr's first x-ray, taken a few months ago, prompted frequent discussion of bones. One night, as Zephyr was getting ready for bed, he thought about another one of his favorite toys. "Does my penis have a bone in it?" We told him it didn't. Zephyr poked and pulled for a few moments, seemingly deep in thought. "Sometimes it feels like it does," he stated.

When my mother was here last month, I told her that I didn't think there was any way I was as cute, intelligent, and lively at three as Zephyr is now. She assured me that I was. Looking back, I can't help but wonder what I wondered. Looking ahead, I can't wait to hear what mysteries of the universe Jubilee understands at three. For now, I'll try to take to heart the words of a stranger that stopped us at the Farmer's Market. "Some advice from an old man with gray hair?" he offered. We nodded. "Love 'em hard. They skip through the house twice, and they're gone."